


Sick

by PetrichorPerfume



Series: Rainbow Marbles [40]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Caretaker Castiel, Cas thinks this is a bad idea, Crowley Being an Asshole, Demon Dean Winchester, German songs, Healing Demon, Home remedies, M/M, Reluctant Castiel, Sick Sam Winchester, Spoiled Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-04
Updated: 2014-07-04
Packaged: 2018-02-07 09:28:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1893918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PetrichorPerfume/pseuds/PetrichorPerfume
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam gets sick because he went out in the cold without permission, and now he won't call Dean because he's afraid of getting into trouble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sick

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this prompt by Anon-a-moose: Would love if while Dean is busy for a couple days with official demon business and sammy got sick, but its his own fault somehow (does something dumb) so he's afraid to admit it and get punished? Bonus points for a SUPER reluctant Cas agreeing to try to cure Sam rather than tell Dean until things get really bad?

In retrospect, it hadn’t been the best idea to stay up late outside in the garden, in the snow, to watch the moon. There had been an eclipse, though, and he’d wanted to see it, even if it meant staying out until two a.m. in the morning long after Cas finally gave up convincing him to come inside and go to bed already. The former angel had left a blanket and a cup of hot chocolate by the steps before going to bed around midnight, but Sam had stupidly stayed up and outside in just a bathrobe, head craned to the night sky so that he’d have a good view as the moon slowly disappeared.

 

That had been on the first day of Dean’s absence. The demon was going to be gone for at least five days because he was Needed Elsewhere, and even though he’d laid out a careful set of rules, Sam had broken them. He’s paying for it now, though. He has a fever, he’s coughing and sneezing and aching and miserable and everything hurts.

 

“We should call Dean,” Castiel says for what must be the hundredth time.

 

“We can’t,” Sam insists. “I’ll get in trouble.”

 

Castiel sighs. “He’s not going to punish you for getting sick, Sam.”

 

Sam shakes his head stubbornly. “I broke the rules. He’ll be mad.”

 

Cas just rolls his eyes. They’ve had this conversation so many times already that he’s sick of it. Sam has been sick for a day and a half and he’s lost count of how many times he’s tried to get Sam to agree to calling Dean.

 

Sam sniffles and Cas hands him a tissue.

 

“Can you see if we have any medicine?” Sam asks with a congested voice.

 

“I already checked. The medicine cabinet is locked.”

 

Sam groans. “I don’t feel good,” he complains.

 

“You know-”

 

“Don’t,” Sam cuts him off.

 

Cas just sighs and lays down beside Sam. “Whatever.”

 

***

 

“This is a bad idea,” Cas says nervously. They’re standing in Dean’s room, in front of Dean’s desk, using Dean’s computer.

 

Sam shrugs. “Relax. He’ll never know.” Then Sam sneezes all over his sleeve and Cas wrinkles his nose in distaste. Sam clicks a few buttons and brings up a web browser. “Home remedies for a flu,” he says as he types. “Here. We can try some of these and I’ll feel better by the time Dean comes back.”

 

Cas shifts from foot to foot. “I don’t know...”

 

“Please Cas?” Sam turns his big pleading eyes towards Cas, and Cas feels himself start to crack. The effect is ruined a little bit when Sam has a coughing fit.

 

“I still think we should call Dean,” Cas says as he rubs Sam’s back.

 

“Castiel.”

 

Cas sighs. When Sam uses his full name, he can never resist. “Fine. I still think it’s a bad idea, but I’ll do it.”

 

Sam hugs him. “You’re the best, Cas.”

 

***

 

They start with garlic. Cas sits cross-legged on the bed, feeding Sam little pieces of garlic until Sam turns his head away and whines. “No more,” he says.

 

“Do you feel better yet?” Cas asks. He’s not sure how human sicknesses work, but he’s certain that Sam’s blood-shot eyes and body-wide flush aren’t good signs.

 

“I’m not going to feel better right away, Cas.”

 

“Oh.” Cas shrugs and picks up a spoonful of the next cure they researched. “Open up.”

 

Sam groans but chokes back the mixture of horseradish and chili pepper nevertheless. His eyes water and it burns his throat. “Water,” he gasps as soon as it’s down.

 

Cas hands him a water bottle. “The website did say to drink plenty of fluids. Finish the bottle.”

 

Sam’s eyes widen and he brings the bottle away from his lips. “It’s sixteen ounces, Cas. It’s way too much to finish in one sitting.”

 

Cas glares at him. “Who’s in charge here?”

 

“Neither of us.”

 

“Wrong. I am. Drink.”

 

Sam’s too weak to protest as Cas tilts the bottle and doesn’t let him pull away until it’s all done. He falls back onto the bed, clutching his stomach in agony. “It hurts.”

 

“This was your bad idea! Will you _please_ let me call Dean now?”

 

Sam shakes his head miserably. Cas deflates. “Fine.” He repositions himself so that he can rub Sam’s stomach. “I’ll help you take a shower when you’re ready, then you can eat dinner if you feel like it, and then I’ll put you to bed, okay?”

 

Sam nods. “Sing to me?” He begs.

 

“Which one?”

 

“The German one.”

 

“The one about cannibalism?”

 

“No. The other one.”

 

“Gott wei ich will kein Engel sein...”

 

***

 

When Cas wakes up the next morning, Sam is still asleep. Cas presses a hand against Sam’s forehead and hisses at how warm it is. He fumbles for the thermometer beside their bed and sticks it in Sam’s ear.

 

It comes back 105.1.

 

Cas gasps. He remembers reading somewhere that average human temperature was ninety degrees. He runs to the kitchen and picks up the phone.

 

It rings three times before doing to voicemail.

 

“You’ve reached Dean Winchester. Please call back later or leave a message. If this is an emergency, call Crowley at 666-666-666.”

 

Cas hangs up the phone and dials Crowley’s number. Someone picks up on the first ring. “Crowley.”

 

“Mister Crowley? Is Master Dean with you?”

 

Rich laughter filters through the earpiece. “Hi, sweetiepie. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

 

Cas hiccups. “I need to speak to Dean.”

 

Crowley laughs again, then calls out to someone across the room. “Winchester! One of your pets is on the phone, disrespecting me!” There’s a small pause. “Dean says he won’t speak to you until you learn some manners.”

 

“Please! It’s urgent.” He starts to cry. “Sam has a really high fever and I think he’s dying and-”

 

Then Dean’s voice floods through the phone. “What’s wrong, baby?”

 

Cas feels like weeping in relief. “Sam is sick. Really sick.”

 

There’s a screeching, clattering noise from the other end of the line and Cas winces and pulls the phone away from his ear. “Dean left in a hurry. I assume he’s on his way to you, although-”

 

Cas hangs up and runs back to their bedroom. He knows that Dean had told them to be respectful and polite to Crowley, but right now it’s more important to make sure that Sam is alright. He finds Dean standing over a sleeping Sam with a glowing red hand on his chest.

 

Then Dean pulls away and turns to look at him. Cas swallows and takes a step back. “He’s better now,” Dean assures him. “He had pneumonia. He was like this when you woke up?”

 

Cas shakes his head and looks away.

 

“What do you mean, ‘no’?”

 

“He’s... He’s been sick for two days.”

 

“And you didn’t call me?” When Cas looks back up, Dean is trembling with barely suppressed rage.

 

He sinks to the floor. “Sam told me not to.”

 

Dean steps forward until he’s standing over Cas. “Sam told you not to?”

 

Cas nods. “He didn’t want you to punish him.”

 

Dean sighs. “Punish him for getting sick?”

 

“No. For going out into the cold even though you told him not to go outside. He stayed up late to watch the eclipse.”

 

Dean laughs. “You do know that’s not how people get sick, right?”

 

Cas frowns. “It’s... It’s not?”

 

Dean looks around and spots a water bottle by the night table. He picks it up. “This yours?”

 

Cas shakes his head. “It’s Sam’s.”

 

Dean kneels in front of him and pops off the cap. “Okay, listen up. Humans get sick when they come into contact with viruses or bacteria. Going out into the cold has nothing to do with it. Now, since Sam drank from this water bottle, his germs are probably all over it.” He hands it to Cas. “Drink up.”

 

“But...” Cas tilts his head. “You want me to get sick?”

 

“You didn’t call me when there was an emergency, Cas. You know that that’s against the rules. Sam could have died. What you did was very dangerous and needs to be punished.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Cas whimpers. “I wanted to call you, but-”

 

“No excuses. Drink.”

 

Cas lifts the bottle to his lips and finishes the remaining water.

 

“I’m going to leave you with some medicine while I finish what I was doing. If you take some right away it’ll make sure that you won’t be sick for long. You probably won’t get a fever, either, and if you do, it won’t be very high. You’re gonna feel miserable, but you won’t be in any danger.”

 

Cas nods miserably. “I don’t wanna be sick.”

 

Dean leans in and kisses his forehead. “I know, baby. No one does. I’ll check in on you in a couple of hours and if you’re really not handling things I’ll make it better, okay?”

 

Cas sniffles and nods. A single tear falls from his eye.

 

“Don’t cry,” Dean says. “I’ll be back soon. I promise.” With that, the demon leaves.

 

Cas stands and wakes Sam by throwing a pillow at his face. Sam flails as he wakes up. “What the hell?” He asks. He looks down at himself. “I feel... Better?”

 

Cas growls. “You had a fever, so I called Crowley. Dean came by and healed you, but he made _me_ sick as a punishment for not calling earlier.” He flops down on the bed dramatically. “And now you’re going to take care of me.”

 

***

 

Two Days Later:

 

To say that he’s exhausted is an understatement. Sam has spent the past two days running between the bedroom and the kitchen, preparing meal after meal for Cas as the former angel asked for more and more outlandish things. Most of them were sweet and rich and _not_ intended to be eaten by sick people, but Cas insisted that they made him feel better and Sam didn’t have the heart to question further because it was his fault that Cas was being punished in the first place.

 

Cas also demanded that Sam reposition his pillows, cover him in a precise way that Sam almost never managed to achieve, entertain him, and play games with him. It’s frustrating and infuriating and the only way Sam can deal with it is by reminding himself of the thousand reasons why he loves Cas.

 

But enough is enough.

 

“You’re not even sick, are you?” He accuses right after Cas finishes asking him for triple chocolate cake.

 

Cas shrugs.

 

“Were you _ever_ sick?”

 

“How much would you hate me if I said no?”

 

Sam shakes his head and laughs. “You spoiled little _brat._ ”

 

“You love me anyway.”

 

Sam doesn’t deny it.

**Author's Note:**

> Sam should really know better. He did go to college after all. 
> 
> The German means "God knows I don't want to be an angel," which is pretty tragic because of who's singing it. It's from the Rammstein song Engel. The other song mentioned is Mein Teil, which is about eating people. 
> 
> Also, I took some liberties with Dean's powers because (spoilers) no one really knows what his demonic powers will be.


End file.
